A New Appreciation
by AnUnstoppableWarrior
Summary: Prussia takes his teasing a bit too far when he takes one of Switzerland's guns and refuses to give it back. In Switzerland's attempts to get the gun back, a sudden move from the Swiss makes Prussia tense up and fire. At first it seems no one is hit, but someone was indeed shot...America always liked to say he was the hero, and this just proves it.


**If you've ever written from Switzerland or Liechtenstein's POV, I have new respect for you. I, however, will never do it again. I can't handle writing those names so many times. _So many times._**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

There weren't many people Switzerland hated—wait, no, that's wrong.

There weren't many people Switzerland _didn't_ hate. Yes, that's it.

Liechtenstein was obviously his number one. Though he often came across as cold hearted or emotion-less, she knew the truth, and what he really felt for her. She meant everything to him, yet rarely did he show it.

However, if Liechtenstein was his number one favorite, then who, you might ask, was his number one least favorite?

_Prussia._

He hated Prussia with a fiery passion, almost rivaled to his passion for his gun collection. Now, there wasn't any particular reason why Switzerland hated Prussia—to be fair, he hated the lot of them. America with his loud, brash attitude, Germany with his obsessive need for control, Sweden for his...actually, Sweden was pretty okay, if he had to pick a Nation. But Prussia, ooooh _Prussia._

Prussia was going to get shot in the head if he didn't leave him alone in the next thirty seconds.

The lunch break was just about to end, and other Nations were returning so that they could end this farce of a meeting and go home. Every day before this he'd been left to his own devices, which is just the way he liked it. But of course, on the last day, Prussia would see fit to bother him. He wished Liechtenstein was sitting next to him.

Unfortunately, Liechtenstein was seated across the table from him, something he couldn't help. They shared a room together, neighboring Belgium, who, along with Hungary, came by everyday after the meeting to whisk Liechtenstein off somewhere. And though it might be odd, Switzerland was okay with it. He trusted those girls to take care of Liechtenstein. He knew that Liechtenstein would keep herself hidden from others, like he does, to please him if that's what she thought he wanted. He didn't want her to pretend to be happy, seeing him and only him every day for the rest of their lives. If she wanted to spend time with others, he couldn't—and didn't want to—stop her. Plus, he'd heard that she had many friends and was very sociable, and that was more than enough to make him happy.

That didn't mean he wanted her on the other side of the room during meetings, however.

He felt bad for her too—she'd been seated next to America, and that's tantamount to torture.

Of course, torture is nothing compared to getting an earful of Prussia. He'd take sitting next to America any day. Though maybe not...on America's other side was Denmark, who was just as bad as Prussia and America. And on Liechtenstein's other side, Belarus, one of the Nations _he _felt uneasy around. He certainly felt sorry for Liechtenstein.

Switzerland wasn't really paying attention to anything Prussia was currently saying. Sometimes, Germany threw Prussia out of the meeting before it started—should be standard protocol, in his opinion—sometimes Prussia never even set foot in the building, and sometimes Prussia was allowed to stay and participate. Didn't make much sense to him, as Prussia no longer had a Nation nor a boss to report back to, but he suspected that Germany and Prussia worked out an agreement before each meeting as to whether or not Prussia could stay. He couldn't imagine what Prussia could possibly say to Germany to convince the guy to let him in, especially since Prussia had quite the mouth on him, but for whatever reason, here Prussia was, assigned to the seat next to _him,_ as if some higher power was content watching him suffer. He clenched his fist around the assault rifle in his lap.

Distracted in his thoughts about shooting Prussia in the head to get him to shut up, Switzerland failed to notice the pull of his pistol from its holder on his belt. At least until he noticed Prussia inspecting it, still talking about something.

"Prussia," Switzerland whispered, deadly serious as he stared hard at his pistol in Prussia's hands. Prussia stopped talking and turned his head to look at him.

"What?" He asked, oblivious to the building rage burning inside the Swiss.

"Put my gun down. Now."

Unbelievably, a smirk crept onto Prussia's face, and he passed off the gun from his right hand to his left, the one farther away from Switzerland. "Aw, are your panties in a twist because someone's holding your gun and it's not you?" The sheer gall that Prussia possessed might have been enough to impress him, if he wasn't trembling from anger. No one touched his guns without his permission. _No one_.

"Prussia? I think you should really consider giving Switzerland his gun back," Finland said, on the other side of Prussia. Bless that man, always looking out for others. Sweden, who was of course sitting next to Finland said nothing, but watched with an intense and focused gaze as Prussia waved the pistol around. Bullet wounds sucked, and hurt like hell, but with their advanced healing, they posed no real threat. If the wound was survivable, they'd heal in minutes. Still, there was always a chance someone could get hit, or die, if they weren't careful.

"Now why would I do that?" Prussia said. Normally he would have slung an arm around Finland, if Finland had been any other Nation. But Sweden would rip his arm off, and he quite liked it attached to his body, so he kept his hands to himself. "I'm just have a little fun."

"Guns are not play things, not even to us," Switzerland hissed, placing his rifle on the table in front of Greece, who was seated next to him and asleep. Like Sweden, Greece was one of the few Nations he didn't have a problem with. Even if the slacker woke up, he knew Greece would ignore the gun.

Slowly, he pushed his chair out and stood up, facing Prussia fully and ready to take back his gun by force, if it came to that. Prussia was taller than him, and stronger physically, but he could easily say that what Prussia made up for in muscles, he lacked in brain power. Switzerland knew he was a better, smarter fighter, and already he was calculating all the ways to retrieve his gun.

A cough off to the side drew their attention. Germany was standing as well, hands flat on the table and glaring daggers at Prussia. "Prussia, stop being an annoying jerk and give Switzerland his gun back. It's dangerous to act so carelessly with such a weapon." If Switzerland had to guess this wouldn't be the first time Germany's had to tell his brother not to play with guns. Sometimes he wondered if Prussia could ever function above a third grade level.

"I—" Switzerland didn't give Prussia time to respond as he pounced, crashing into Prussia's side and reaching for the gun. Damn Prussia's height. It wasn't much on him, but it was enough that Prussia could hold the gun high above his head, out of Switzerland's reach. But Prussia could only use one hand, and Switzerland knew it was only a matter of time before he clawed Prussia's arm back down.

"Dammit—let go!" Prussia growled, tipping back in his chair to try and get more distance between Switzerland's hand and his gun. But he lost his balance as the crazy Swiss jumped at him again, and the chair, along with Prussia and Switzerland, tipped over. In anticipation for landing on the ground, Prussia tensed up.

A loud _BANG!_ startled everyone and through instinct, they all ducked, hoping the bullet would imbed itself in the wall or ceiling. Many Nations ducked their head under the table, not wanting to die as collateral from such a stupid fight.

At first it seemed like no one had been shot, but as everyone peeked over the table, it was clear that that was not the case.

"Holy shit!"

"Oh my."

Denmark and Belarus had spoken at the same time, and their statements couldn't have been louder in the deathly quiet room. All eyes turned to them, or more specifically, at the two sitting between them.

Liechtenstein, who was sitting in her seat, unmoving and wide-eyed, and America, who was standing between her and the table, his eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted in pain as red started staining the back of his suit.

No one moved at first. Even Switzerland, who could easily grab his gun from Prussia's slack grasp, didn't dare twitch as he watched Liechtenstein's horrified gaze slide slowly from him, to America.

"A-A-America?" She asked shakily. Switzerland couldn't see his face, because his back was to them, but Liechtenstein, Denmark, and Belarus could see him perfectly, and from their faces, he wasn't okay.

"You're o-okay, r-right?" America asked and then it hit Switzerland: instead of ducking and protecting himself, America had jumped in front of Liechtenstein to protect her. He'd taken the pain of a bullet to spare her from it.

It seemed Switzerland wasn't the only Nation to come back to himself. Denmark was standing and keeping America still while Belarus pulled Liechtenstein's chair out of the way, the young girl still sitting up and stiff in it. She kept close as Ukraine, who'd been sitting next to her sister, comforted the petrified girl, but Belarus was not paying them attention; she kept her gaze on the several Nations now surrounding America, eyes narrowed.

Switzerland tore his gaze away and stared down at Prussia, who he was currently laying awkwardly on top of. Prussia was also wide-eyed, and Switzerland found himself angry once more. Taking Prussia by surprise, Switzerland grabbed the front of his suit jacket and punched him across the face. Not hard, but enough to get a point across.

"Do you see what happens when you play with guns!" Switzerland shouted in his face, reaching out to yank the gun away. Prussia kept his head to the side, his cheek turning red, and he stuttered out, "I-I know that—b-but—"

"Liechtenstein was almost shot—America _was_ shot!" Liechtenstein was almost shot. _Liechtenstein was almost shot._ Nausea rolled heavy in his gut at the thought. Liechtenstein wasn't a delicate flower, but she'd never been shot before. If she had been hurt from Prussia's stupidity...he didn't like thinking about what he might do to the other Nation.

"Switzerland." Switzerland looked up into Germany's eyes. He looked sympathetic, yet under that he could see a storm raging, and he knew Prussia was about to get caught in it. "You should go to Liechtenstein. I will deal with Prussia."

Switzerland realized he was still clutching Prussia's jacket, and his other fist was clenched and itching to punch Prussia again. Disgusted, he let go and ran around the table to get to Liechtenstein's side, his pistol and rifle be damned.

Ukraine moved out of the way before he could think to say anything, and while he was thankful, her concerned gaze worried him. "What's wrong?" He asked, kneeling down in front of Liechtenstein. Her eyes were clearly focused on the scene behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. America was laying on the table on his stomach, his jacket and shirt removed. Switzerland could see blood pooling on the table under him. He shivered and swallowed the lump in his throat, turning back to Liechtenstein. Gently, he put his hands on her face and turned it towards him, moving in the line of her sight. When he saw her refocus on him, he spoke.

"Are you okay?"

Her mouth opened but there weren't any sounds. It hurt to see her like this; usually she was so composed and calm, but he could clearly see that what had just happened troubled her greatly.

"Is—Is America—?"

"Don't think about it," Switzerland said, and it was cruel because America had just taken a bullet for her, for no reason other than it was the right thing to do. To America, at the time, it must have seemed like the obvious choice. Spare himself pain he's felt before, or protect a little girl who didn't deserve that kind of pain? Switzerland didn't even know if he could make that decision so fast and easily, like it was a reflex to offer his life in the place of others'.

"But...?" She trailed off, closing her eyes and finally relaxing her posture, but only somewhat. It was a start.

He slid a hand around to rest on the nape of her neck before pulling their heads closer, resting his forehead on hers. "You're safe. You're alright." He could feel her body shake and when he opened his eyes, there were tears running down her cheeks in a silent cry.

"Th-thank y-you, b-broth-ther," she cried. He hugged her close for a moment before standing up. Ukraine was crying silently as well, Belarus was not, but both of them were staring behind him. Sighing, he kept his body in front of Liechtenstein's but turned his head to see for himself the damage.

His eyes widened.

There was no movement. From neither the Nations nor America. Even from a few feet away, Switzerland could tell that America wasn't breathing. It was like getting punched in the gut. America hadn't just protected Liechtenstein from a bullet—he had _died_ protecting her.

He could see England, and Canada and France. They were sitting at the table, various expressions on their faces. England looked tired but not overly angry or concerned. France was sitting with his arms crossed, sadness in his eyes as he gazed at America. And Canada was holding America's hand, his face the blankest of all. Being the three Nations America considered his closest family, they'd probably dealt with his death more than any of them knew. Switzerland hadn't personally watched over a dead Nation in _years—_their nonchalance made him wonder if America died often enough that they could just sigh and wait for him to wake up. It was a strange notion, but...if today was any indication, maybe America had died saving kid's from getting hit by cars in the street, or interrupted a mugging in a back alley and been shot or knifed for it.

As Germany had left with Prussia in tow, Russia was the one to call the meeting off. "I think the meeting is over now," he said, walking over to America. He went to pick the dead Nation up, but was stopped briefly when England stood up and put a hand on his arm.

"I—yes. Yes I think you're right." Switzerland couldn't have looked more surprised. England had agreed that easily on something? No fuss, no yelling, nothing? _And_ he'd allow Russia, of all Nations, to pick America up and carry him away? There was clearly something else going on, but Switzerland couldn't be bothered to think to much into it. With Nations leaving the room and England, France, and Canada following Russia and America out the door, Switzerland took Liechtenstein's hand and lead her to their room.

* * *

From the sounds beyond the door, he'd think there was a war in there.

Switzerland and Liechtenstein were standing in front of America's hotel room. It's the next day, and even though America had—Christ, America had _died—_Hungary had informed them that morning that he had regained consciousness already, and was already back to making a fuss.

Liechtenstein had been quiet all night and all morning. Usually Liechtenstein loved having conversations with him, even if about the most meaningless of things, but she'd been so quiet that Switzerland couldn't help but worry. When Hungary had brought them that news on America, Liechtenstein had expressed her desire to visit him—to thank him for saving her.

Switzerland didn't think it a great idea, as America's death had been hard enough on her, but her big green eyes were impossible to say no to, so here they were, waiting for the door to open.

There was shouting and loud noises of indistinguishable origin, but nothing sounded serious. From the snippets he could understand, America was trying to force someone out of the room.

The door suddenly flew open, and they were greeted by England, Canada, and France, all being pushed towards the door at the same time by an irate America. When they noticed that company was standing at the door, all four of them stopped, and America let the other three go.

"Liechtenstein...Switzerland..." America said, rubbing the back of his neck as an nervous habit. He backed up, thus allowing England, Canada, and France the opportunity to back up as well. Liechtenstein moved forward as they moved back, and soon she was standing directly before America, who had dropped the annoyance from his expression and was looking seriously down at her.

For a moment no one moved or said anything, then Liechtenstein lurched forward and wrapped her arms around America's midsection, burying her face in his chest. She was crying.

"Thank you," she said through the tears, and though she cried her voice was strong and clear. "Thank you so much."

America looked shocked for a moment before he smiled and slowly knelt, Liechtenstein dropping to her knees as well. America returned her hug.

"I did what I though was right, and I don't regret it," he whispered to her. "I'm glad you aren't hurt."

As Switzerland watched America console the young girl he'd taken a bullet and died for, Switzerland couldn't help but mentally move America to the number two spot on his list of favorite people. He certainly had a whole new appreciation for America's need to be the hero.


End file.
